A Topical Hate Weave
Jun. 26th, 2003 10:54 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
talktoolooseThank all entities -- the evil heat wave is supposed to end this evening after only two days of scorch, sweat and smog. After 4 p.m., a cool wave enters bringing thunderstorms and a forecast high of 25C tomorrow!
Just in time, because my homocidally misanthropic streak is starting to show as people react to power outages and increased smog by abandoning public transit in favour of the one-man-per-car rule and run their air conditioners 24/7 instead of opening windows in the relatively cool dead of night. How bad do I get? Check out this from a year ago.
Work on the music has gone just adequately this week. I hate everything I'm sequencing and spend a lot of energy telling myself to push forward instead of judging every note. As long as the key and the tempo are correct for the recording, I can always fix everything else later. I was downright brutal about my "woeful lack of talent" at 5 a.m. this morning. Maybe![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
deuterium_d3 is right about how I'm getting down on myself.
Segue to the topic of the company picnic this afternoon. I am extremely grateful that I have so much music work to do that I have a legitimate excuse for not attending this yearly event for the second year in a row. The smart part of myself says that I would not be caught dead at a suburban smile-a-thon, especially one that involves a pool and a barbecue. I'm just way too cool.
The self-deprecating way of looking at it is that I feel a need to hide my weirder self from my co-workers, and I don't want them to see me in just a bathing suit. I'm pretty open at work -- I'm out to everyone; along with other strange characters, I'm pretty loud and goofy. But the extent of my "difference", especially in areas of sexuality and relationships, is something I don't really get into. And in the "casual" milieu of the barbecue, the strain of keeping up a front wearies me and the possibility of exposure (beyond just my hairy bell) scares me.
If I'm kinder to myself, I'd say that my reason for not going is about staking out space for my private self. Work is not my life and I take pains to make my day job something I leave and don't put too much stake in. When I'm with my real friends, I dare myself to be myself. I stage dive from the place of fear I lived in for years and years and my friends catch me. And then I want to weep with joy because I know they will love me for being myself and that won't change. With my friends, I can be joyous, silly, scared, angry -- any colour that bursts forth. At the company barbecue, where money, advancement and lubrication of the daily grind are always in mind, I am resentful of the pretense and scared that it will slip.
On Saturday, a birthday barbecue with real friends.
Just in time, because my homocidally misanthropic streak is starting to show as people react to power outages and increased smog by abandoning public transit in favour of the one-man-per-car rule and run their air conditioners 24/7 instead of opening windows in the relatively cool dead of night. How bad do I get? Check out this from a year ago.
Work on the music has gone just adequately this week. I hate everything I'm sequencing and spend a lot of energy telling myself to push forward instead of judging every note. As long as the key and the tempo are correct for the recording, I can always fix everything else later. I was downright brutal about my "woeful lack of talent" at 5 a.m. this morning. Maybe
deuterium_d3 is right about how I'm getting down on myself.Segue to the topic of the company picnic this afternoon. I am extremely grateful that I have so much music work to do that I have a legitimate excuse for not attending this yearly event for the second year in a row. The smart part of myself says that I would not be caught dead at a suburban smile-a-thon, especially one that involves a pool and a barbecue. I'm just way too cool.
The self-deprecating way of looking at it is that I feel a need to hide my weirder self from my co-workers, and I don't want them to see me in just a bathing suit. I'm pretty open at work -- I'm out to everyone; along with other strange characters, I'm pretty loud and goofy. But the extent of my "difference", especially in areas of sexuality and relationships, is something I don't really get into. And in the "casual" milieu of the barbecue, the strain of keeping up a front wearies me and the possibility of exposure (beyond just my hairy bell) scares me.
If I'm kinder to myself, I'd say that my reason for not going is about staking out space for my private self. Work is not my life and I take pains to make my day job something I leave and don't put too much stake in. When I'm with my real friends, I dare myself to be myself. I stage dive from the place of fear I lived in for years and years and my friends catch me. And then I want to weep with joy because I know they will love me for being myself and that won't change. With my friends, I can be joyous, silly, scared, angry -- any colour that bursts forth. At the company barbecue, where money, advancement and lubrication of the daily grind are always in mind, I am resentful of the pretense and scared that it will slip.
On Saturday, a birthday barbecue with real friends.
